


Have Apron, Will Stalk

by misura



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Also: acting like a creepy psycho stalker? Not really helping me sleep at night."</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>"It should," Will said.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have Apron, Will Stalk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Selenay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/gifts).



If he hadn't been going in blind, it would have been a routine job.

As it was, he figured it'd be just enough of a challenge to be fun, to work off some of that tension that came with the kind of mission that involved saving the world - and, let's not forget, jumping down 25-foot shafts, relying on magnetism to keep him from going splut.

No jumping required here, thus far, which was good, given that he was doing this one solo.

He got to the final hallway eight seconds ahead of schedule, which was not so good. He'd studied the situation extensively aforehand; his estimate should not have been this far off.

Lingering wasn't really an option, though, so he supposed he'd simply have to live with it, try to do better next time. He'd go over the log later, see where the difference had come from, what he'd missed, whether or not he'd rushed something he shouldn't have.

Security thus far had been a joke, so maybe it was that. Telling yourself your target might be trying to lull you into a false sense of safety only worked for so long; at some point, you started believing that they really _were_ as sloppy as they seemed to be.

Five-point-something seconds to the first door. No motion sensors, and no indication of any kind of alarm.

Pick the lock (mechanical, so actually requiring a touch of skill and a whole three seconds longer than expected). Open the door. Slip inside. Close the door.

Breathe. Take five seconds.

Proceed to target.

 

Benji had always been a light sleeper. Not a bad thing, he'd thought, in a field agent, although there obviously were drawbacks, too. On longer missions, he tended not to get a lot of sleep.

Of course, on longer missions, _nobody_ got a lot of sleep, so that sort of evened things out.

Plus, unlike _some_ people, Benji knew lack of sleep didn't make him cranky. Even lack of _coffee_ didn't make him cranky, and that was something few people could say.

It wasn't because he preferred tea, either.

Still, it was good to be back at the place he supposed he might as well call 'home', even if it didn't really feel like it. He always slept like a log here, and he'd programmed his coffee machine to make coffee just the way he wanted it. (Not picky in the field, absolutely not.)

At least, he always _used to_ sleep like a log.

Nowadays, not so much anymore. It was just - well, he had a good imagination. A solid grasp on reality, if you wish. He _knew_ what could, would have happened, if they'd failed. If that nutbar had actually managed to start a nuclear war.

_Vaporized._ And, arguably, those would have just been the lucky ones.

If that wasn't enough to give a man nightmares, Benji didn't know what was.

And so he got used to waking up in the middle of the night, tangled in his sheets, heart beating too fast, spotting some shady figure in the corner of his room, watching him.

... wait.

" _Will_?"

 

"You really should keep your gun under your pillow."

"I was reaching for the lamp, if you must know." _Deep breaths_ , Benji told himself.

The expression on Will's face was - well.

" _Not_ to throw at you. I'd have used a book for that. Or slippers." On second thought, probably not his slippers. He'd need them to walk in, presumably. "Is this some kind of field exam?"

"You should keep your gun under your pillow," Will repeated, apparently under the impression Benji hadn't heard him perfectly well the first time.

"Yeah. Wasn't really planning on killing myself by accident."

"Were you planning on doing it on purpose?"

_Suppose I walked right into that one._ "What's this about? Mission? Phone not working? Computer trouble? If it's the last one: love to help, but I'm afraid I need my beauty sleep right now."

Any real kind of emergency, Benji figured Will would have simply woken him up - or better yet: called. And it likely would have been Ethan, not Will.

"You're not sleeping well."

Benji considered various snappy comebacks to that. "How would you know?"

"It's ... important," Will said. "To be able to."

"Again," Benji said. "How would you know?"

"I've been watching you."

Benji blinked. _Just now. He probably means he's been watching me_ just now _. Which is still kind of uh. All right then._ "You do that a lot? Watching people sleep?"

"Just you," Will said, without so much as a tiny little squirm. "Past two weeks."

"Past two - are you _nuts_?"

Will shrugged. "You said it was bothering you. The mission. It seemed the right thing to do."

"It wasn't. It - _two weeks_?"

"Every night," Will said helpfully. "You keep a very steady routine. You might want to change that."

"Get out."

"Just ... think about it."

"Get. Out."

 

Benji considered telling Ethan, but, well, there was that history between him and William - and now that Benji thought about it, maybe Will wasn't actually acting like a creepy psycho stalker.

Will's second-to-last mission, he'd been on a protection detail. So, yeah, he probably got to watch people sleep a lot, actually. And eat, and use the bathroom, and do all kinds of boring, every day stuff. He didn't mean any harm; he was just being ... concerned.

(Telling Jane wasn't really an option, Benji felt.)

(He wanted to get Will to stop, not traumatize him for life and/or land him in the hospital.)

 

"You know, there's been a lot of debate about this recently, and sneaking into someone's bedroom to watch them sleep is not actually romantic. It's just creepy."

Will settled down in the comfy chair Benji had dragged out of the living room with an altogether embarrassing amount of effort. (He'd passed the IMF field agent test; moving a chair from one room to another without anyone shooting at him should've been a piece of cake.)

(Benji'd tried pretending it was a bomb, and that the bed room was a deep abyss into which he needed to drop it to save the world, while various snipers were gunning for him from the book shelves and the kitchen. It hadn't significantly helped.)

"I don't sparkle."

"Also: acting like a creepy psycho stalker? Not really helping me sleep at night."

"It should," Will said.

Well, at least he wasn't denying it. "I mean, when do _you_ sleep, anyway?"

"Afternoons." Will hesitated. "I doze a bit, sometimes."

"Oh, that's reassuring. No need to worry about some assassin murdering me in my sleep, because you're right there, keeping watch. Snoozing."

"I did say you should get a gun."

"Can you just ... stop? I mean, I'm safe here, all right? I've got an alarm and everything." An alarm which Will bypassed without much effort, but then, Will wasn't exactly your average burglar.

On the other hand, Will was probably pretty close to your average black ops person.

"Not a very good one," Will said, as if he was reading Benji's mind.

"So if I upgrade, that'll get you off my back?"

"I'm not after getting on your back," Will said. "This isn't a sexual thing."

Scratch that comment about Will seeming to read Benji's mind. "Um."

"Joke?" Will offered.

"Late," Benji said. "Really, really late. And it wasn't a very good one."

"You're the one who brought _Twilight_ into this."

 

All things considered, Benji didn't really think telling Will to just stop would work.

"You know, you could stay for breakfast some time."

Or, if it would, it seemed likely he'd be hurting Will's feelings in the process - guy only wanted to help, after all. Hurt feelings weren't good in a team, and, really, it didn't bother Benji _that_ much.

... All right, it did, but he could suck it up. Take one for the team.

"Today?" Will asked. He sounded mostly curious, not like he was about to dance around the room with joy or anything. Benji should definitely find that reassuring, maybe?

"Is it past midnight? Because then, yeah, sure."

"Thanks."

Benji stared at the ceiling and wondered if he'd just made a mistake. "I think I've been sleeping better recently."

"You have," Will said. "You're welcome."

He probably had made a mistake, Benji decided. Too late to take it back now, though. He was simply going to have to -

 

"You cooked." And pretty well, too, if the smell was anything to go by.

"Is that all right?" Will was wearing an apron. Benji hadn't seen it before. "I mean, I would have asked."

"It's - that would have been good, yeah."

Will shrugged.

"But, well, water under the bridge. Smells good."

"Tastes good," Will said. His confidence should have been vaguely annoying, Benji thought, not - whatever it was. Not annoying, at any rate.

Plus, it was true about the food.

 

"You know you're supposed to sleep in a bed, right?" Benji wasn't sure where he was going with this, not really. It was just - well, comfy or not, the chair couldn't possibly be as good as a bed.

He hadn't caught Will going stiff on him on the job or anything, but Benji figured it was only a matter of time. Better to prevent it altogether, and it wasn't as if he didn't have the space for an extra bed. Something small and foldable should be just fine.

"It's not - " Will said, and then he stopped. "This isn't permanent."

"Of course not," Benji said quickly, because yeah. Of course not. "Just - "

"I thought tonight would be the last time."

"Oh," Benji said. "Right."

"So."

"So," Benji echoed. "Well, we'll still be seeing each other on the job and everything, so it's not as if we're breaking up or anything, is it?"

"Good night, Benji."

"Night."

 

The annoying, weird, crazy, call it what you wanted thing was: Benji barely slept a wink that night.

Will seemed fine - same as usual, so Benji figured it was just him. And he hadn't had nightmares or anything; he'd only stayed awake and stared at the ceiling and the walls and that vague shape in the corner a lot.

Maybe he'd simply been getting too much sleep, recently. His body probably wasn't used to it anymore.

Simple problem, simple solution.

 

"Okay, you look awful," Jane said. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

Will was looking at them; Benji could feel it. "Plenty. I'm fine, really. Just ... stayed up late for the game."

A guy would have asked: _what game?_ , so Benji felt that particular excuse had really been very clever.

"For ten days in a row?"

"It's ... the start of the new season. You know."

"Well, just record it or something. We need you awake and alert."

"Of course. Good idea. Thanks, Jane."

 

At six past one, Will still hadn't shown up. Benji had bought extra eggs, extra bacon, extra bread, and a carton of orange juice, even though he preferred the bottled stuff himself.

He'd acquired a nice, fold-up bed that looked almost comfortable. He'd put on his nicest pajamas.

_"Hello?"_

"Are you going to come over or what?" Benji asked. He sounded annoyed. Well, he _felt_ annoyed, so that was fine.

_"Benji?"_

"Number recognition. Look into it some time," Benji said. "Yes, it's me. Where are you?"

_"Home,"_ Will said. He sounded sleepy, like Benji'd woken him up - which would serve him right, really it would. _"You want me to come over?"_

"If it's not too much trouble, maybe?"

_"Rain check,"_ Will said. There was a sound that was probably a yawn. _"Night, Benji."_

"Don't - " Too late. " - hang up on me. Great."

 

So that could have gone better, really.

Benji stared at the ceiling, contemplating vengeance. He'd download some sort of embarrassing cutesy ringtone on Will's phone. He'd change Will's screensaver to 'The Olsen Twins: Golden Moments' or better yet: The Smurfs.

He might even tell Jane.

 

He didn't tell Jane.

"So I just want everyone to know: me and Benji are moving in together," Will said.

"What?" Someone choked on his coffee. Benji wasn't surprised to find out it was him.

Jane blinked once, then smiled the smile of those who have just solved a slightly bothersome puzzle. Ethan didn't even have the grace to display that much emotion.

"Tell him to upgrade his security system, it's ancient."

"Hey!" Benji said. "I'm right here, you know. And we're _not_ \- "

Three people were watching him, he noticed. Their intensity varied, but chances were, they'd listen to whatever he said now. They'd _remember_ it.

" - not going to care if you disapprove. We might even get married," he added, because two could play this game. And, well, Will was a good cook. A quiet sleeper. Comfortable to be around, usually.

A bit bossy, maybe. With stalker tendencies. Benji's mother would not have approved. Then again, she wouldn't have much cared for Will being a guy anyway, so that ship had pretty much sailed already.

"We're in love," Will said.

"Absolutely."

"It's a wild, animal lust sort of thing."

"Too. Much. Information," Jane said. "But I'm happy for you."

 

("I thought you said this wasn't a sexual thing.")

("Oh. I lied. People do that sometimes, in this line of work. Problem?")

("No. No problem.")

**Author's Note:**

> the idea was for this to be a quick, h/c kind of ficlet where Will helps Benji out with those nightmares he mentions having at the end of the movie.
> 
> it got out of hand just a bit.
> 
> for the record: don't try this in real life. real spies will probably have far better booby traps around their homes than Benji does in this story. (also, you know, creepy.)


End file.
